FYM - 84

— Of course, there was something of utmost importance.

Song Dan remained silent, exchanging a subtle glance with his younger brothers, Song Bo and Song Cheng, seated below him. A flicker of shared understanding passed across their faces as they silently assessed the current state of the realm.

Since the eighth year of Yuanzhang, the Song family had been forced to leave Chang’an due to their involvement in the succession struggle. Although they had avoided immediate disaster, their relationship with the Eastern Palace had grown strained. After the new emperor ascended the throne, he delayed summoning the Song brothers back to court, leaving their status in the imperial capital increasingly precarious. Initially, Song Dan had hoped that if his youngest daughter could marry Lord Fang Xian Ting of Yingchuan, the family’s future would be secured through the Fangs’ patronage. However, with Fang’s sudden death in battle, all those hopes had crumbled into nothing.

Yet, after the defeat at Shangxiao Valley, the situation on the battlefield shifted rapidly, and the fate of the realm became clouded and uncertain. Rumors swirled that the court intended to relocate the capital to Luoyang, though the true concerns of the imperial household likely ran deeper.

In the first month of the year, Imperial Counselor Chen Meng had personally traveled south under the guise of visiting old friends but, in reality, was sent by the emperor to gauge the Song family’s intentions. Having served the emperor since his days as crown prince, Chen Meng was undeniably a trusted confidant.

“That rebel king and Zhong He conspired recklessly, bringing chaos to the Central Plains and endless warfare. Yet the Song family enjoys leisure in this soft and gentle Jiangnan—what good fortune.”

Though framed as jest, the remark carried layered implications. Unsure whether it contained a veiled rebuke from the emperor, Song Dan responded cautiously, deflecting with ambiguity: “Changwen must not know… My brother Zhong Ji and I have long wished to return north to Chang’an to serve our lord and country. However, having once erred, we are too ashamed to petition for reinstatement. Our confinement in Jiangnan is truly a matter of necessity.”

Chen Meng chuckled, shaking his head, but his stroking of his beard slowed. He turned to Song Dan and said, “His Majesty is benevolent and forgiving, and will not dwell on past grievances. If Lord Song truly harbors patriotic intentions, now is the opportune moment.”

Song Dan’s heart stirred, but he masked his reaction, bowing slightly to ask, “May I inquire what you mean by this, Changwen?”

Chen Meng waved his hand dismissively, pretending to speak casually among friends: “We both know how much the emperor relies on the Fang family. With Lord Fang’s sacrifice, His Majesty has been restless, unable to eat or sleep. Forget about Chang’an in the west—even Luoyang in the east may no longer be…”

These words…

“Surely Your Majesty does not intend to move south?” Song Dan’s eyes widened slightly.

Chen Meng remained enigmatic, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “The northwest front has collapsed, and the Xie family in the east may not withstand the Eastern Turks. Should the war take a turn for the worse, the central plains will fall prey to barbarians. How can either capital be considered safe?”

This was undeniable.

The two capitals were only six hundred li apart. In the event of a defeat, enemy forces would reach them in the blink of an eye. Crossing the river to the south offered far greater security. The court’s silence on the matter was likely to avoid alarming the populace. Since ancient times, losing the Central Plains meant forfeiting control over the realm, and the emperor surely did not wish to bear the eternal stigma of being a ruler who lost his land.

If that were the case…

“Lord Song…”

Chen Meng sighed deeply, his gaze growing heavier.

“The Song family of Jinling has long been the most prominent clan in Jiangnan, wielding immense influence outside the Central Plains. If His Majesty indeed decides to move the capital south… will the Song family stand united with the emperor in mutual support?”

The intent of his probing was now unmistakable. Without hesitation, Song Dan rose abruptly and bowed deeply—not to Chen Meng, but to the emperor behind him—speaking solemnly: “Our family owes its prosperity to the grace of the imperial house. We shall offer our utmost loyalty and dedication, sparing no effort to serve His Majesty in these turbulent times. All the noble families of Jiangnan will surely follow.”

This declaration of loyalty was resounding, almost guaranteeing the emperor that the Song family would help consolidate the many powerful clans in Jiangnan. Chen Meng seemed satisfied, promising to relay Song Dan’s words to the throne. After a long silence, he lowered his voice further: “His Majesty is considerate of his subjects and would never allow loyal servants to feel disheartened. If Lord Song is truly devoted to the nation, then the position of empress…”

The position of empress…?

Song Dan froze, unable to conceal his astonishment. “But the empress…?”

…Hadn’t she long been Lady Fang Ranjun?

“That empress has been away from the palace for over a year, her heart estranged from the emperor…” Chen Meng’s sigh grew heavier. “With Lord Fang and the late Duke’s wife now deceased, perhaps…”

He left the sentence unfinished, yet the implication was clear. Whether out of fear for the empress’s health or some other unspoken concern, the message was plain.

“Though the emperor cherishes the Fang family, as a ruler, he must look forward,” Chen Meng shook his head, his expression somber. “Lord Song still has two unmarried daughters, does he not? If so… do not miss this opportunity.”

“This opportunity? What kind of opportunity is this!”

After Chen Meng’s departure, Song Dan and his two brothers stayed up late discussing the matter. Song Cheng, ever quiet and reserved, remained silent, while Song Bo, upon hearing the full story, slammed the table in anger.

“That rebel king and the Turks are advancing ferociously, even the Shenlü Army of Yingchuan couldn’t stop them. Who else can we rely on in the future?”

“Brother, forgive my insolence—but what if, what if our Great Zhou truly…”

The unspoken word—”falls”—weighed heavily in the air, chilling them to the bone. Song Dan’s brows knotted tightly as he listened to his brother continue: “Helping the emperor move south and relocate the capital to Jinling is no great challenge. But if the collapse truly approaches… then our Song family will have no way out!”

Who could argue otherwise?

Great Zhou teetered on the brink of ruin, and one more defeat might see the barbarians breach the gates. When that day came, the emperor would surely be the first to fall, followed swiftly by his closest ministers. If the Song family produced an empress, when the dynasty collapsed, it would spell doom for the entire clan.

But—

“What if we refuse? What would His Majesty think?” Song Cheng finally spoke, his face pale with fear. “Might he find another pretext to accuse us of disloyalty?”

Indeed.

The Song family, a scholar-gentry clan, held no military power in these chaotic times. They lived or died by the emperor’s favor, with no other path. They had already incurred the emperor’s displeasure over past events at Lishan. If they now refused to offer a daughter in marriage…

Song Dan exhaled deeply, understanding why the emperor had made this move. He knew the relocation depended on the Song family’s cooperation but feared they might betray him as before. Thus, he sought to bind them through marriage, forcing them to stake everything on his dynasty.

“We have no choice…”

His hands trembled, his voice wavering.

“One of them—Shuqian or Shuyan—must enter the palace as empress.”

The room fell heavy, the flickering candlelight swaying in the chilly winds of early spring. Song Bo and Song Cheng understood their family’s fate rested entirely on the emperor’s whim.

“Let Shuyan go…”

Song Bo sighed reluctantly after careful consideration.

“She is resilient, wise, and decisive. With Lord Fang deceased, the engagement naturally holds no weight…”

Song Dan had always weighed his daughters carefully. He knew Shuqian was jealous, temperamental, and shallow, far less suited than Shuyan’s calm and steady nature. However, his youngest daughter had clashed with him in the past, and he sensed her lingering resentment. If she entered the palace, controlling her might prove difficult…

He agonized over this throughout February, and even now, faced with his youngest daughter’s cold gaze, he struggled to respond. Amid the silence, Lady Wan, echoing her eldest son’s resentment, quickly interjected, eager to unleash her venom upon Song Shuyan.

“Fourth Miss hasn’t returned home in nearly two years and seems to have forgotten all her upbringing,” she mocked cruelly, her sharp cheekbones appearing even more pronounced. “Is it proper to greet your parents standing upright? Do you not know how to bend your knees?”

“Exactly—”

Song’s third daughter eagerly joined in. To these mother and daughter, Song Shuyan, clad in mourning white and frail from illness, was pitiable in no way. She was merely a fallen phoenix, reduced to a common bird, flailing in vain. Hadn’t she been so proud and haughty two years ago, relying on Yi’s favor to disregard her father, mother, elder brother, and sister? Now what? Was she powerless? Speechless? Destined to submit to their torment?

“Our parents have missed you dearly, and neither my brother nor I hold grudges. Let’s forget the past. Just apologize sincerely, and all will be forgiven…”

Her words dripped with malice, determined to humiliate her publicly, to crush her spirit and force her to accept her fate—a lifetime of servitude in this gleaming household. But Song Shuyan only found it amusing, utterly baffled by humanity’s penchant for cruelty amid suffering. As if the trials dealt by heaven weren’t enough, some insisted on making everything filthier and more unbearable.

At that moment, she laughed bitterly, not just for herself but for the absurdity of it all. Since her second brother marched north to war, this so-called “home” had lost every trace of warmth, leaving only endless malice.

Her laughter turned to tears, her conflicting expression unsettling to behold. Those present whispered that Fourth Miss might have gone mad—after all, not everyone could endure such a fall from grace. Lady Wan and her precious daughter, however, felt vindicated, secretly hoping Song Shuyan would be driven to take her own life.

Before they could press further, Song Dan finally raised a hand, silencing them. His gaze toward his youngest daughter grew complex, tinged with concern and pity—but these emotions paled against the calculating depths hidden within.

“You’re tired. Go rest early today.”

He scrutinized her closely, his composed demeanor less that of a father and more like an employer distant and wary.

“As for what comes next… we’ll discuss it in a few days.”